James Dreadful and the Spell-Guardian by Alan Creed EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Alan Creed
- Language: English
- Genre: Black & African American Fantasy Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
The Infamous Mr. Dreadful
Einstein once said, ‘Imagination is more important than knowledge.’”
Mr. Carbonaro, James’s ninth-grade History teacher, was finishing up
a container of fruit salad, picking through cantaloupe and a bruised grape
with a fork as he leaned against his desk. He had planted his butt right next
to a cup of ballpoint pens and a miniature guillotine as he eyed James, who
slouched awkwardly in front of him. “So, I’ll give you credit for
imagination, James.”
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If Carbonaro hadn’t pinned him down with his eyes, James would have
managed to slip, unnoticed, out of the classroom with the rest of his
classmates when the bell rang. He could have easily hidden behind Aarna—
the Indo-American girl who’d been drawing her favorite band onto her
forearm with Egyptian blue ink during the lecture. But Mr. Carbonaro
hadn’t given him a chance. He had eyes that could zoom in like a Telephoto
lens on a phone camera.
James had been trying to refrain from making an eye roll all period, but
he couldn’t resist now.
“If you do that anymore today, your eyes will fall out of your head and
roll around on my clean floor, young man,” Carbonaro drawled lazily. He
had a striking resemblance to Bryan Cranston, but he was too much of a
dweeb to do anything cool like cook meth, so it didn’t make History any
more interesting. “So, good sleep in my class?”
When the bell had rung, James had had to peel the side of his face from
his History book, and there was a reddened imprint of the cover running up
his jaw and cheek. So—yes, in fact, he did.
“Yes, sir,” James admitted cheekily.
Mr. Carbonaro frowned, noting his tone. “Don’t get sassy. Now, let’s
discuss—” He picked up the essay in question and began to read. “‘Myths
and fairy tales have been misrepresented in our culture since time
immemorial.’” He raised his eyes at James. “‘Time immemorial,’ James?”
He read on without waiting for a response. “‘Scholars believe they are
fictions passed down for generations. But in truth, they simply come from a
place you can reach through a wormh-h-hole—’” Mr. Carbonaro snorted
through his nose and some of the juice came out, which he wiped away
quickly. Then, suppressing his laughter, he leaned back on his desk. “How’s
Call of Duty?”
“Don’t play it,” was all James could mumble at the moment, and gave
his loose Dickies shirt a tug.
“Then what are you smokin’? ’Cause I’d like to try it.”
Wow, that was a real plot twist, James thought. Mr.
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